


mountains high and the valleys low

by thepriceofame



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Coming of Age, Fluff, Gen, Gratuitous Plant Symbolism, M/M, Unreliable Narrator, tf are you gonna do about it?, yeah I used a literature textbook to write this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:15:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24435730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepriceofame/pseuds/thepriceofame
Summary: The captains squad roommates au in which Tooru dreams and grows and learns a little about love.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou & Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Kuroo Tetsurou & Oikawa Tooru, Oikawa Tooru & Sawamura Daichi, Oikawa Tooru & Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	mountains high and the valleys low

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BokutosBabysitter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BokutosBabysitter/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Time Alive | Iwaoi Animatic](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/626236) by SincerelyMaxx. 



> For [iwaoi_lovebot](https://twitter.com/iwaoi_lovebot)

Friday 11:53 PM

I’m gonna miss you (T . T)

dont say that.

dumbass.

Sunday 4:52 AM

you awake??

Sunday 8:54 PM

m tiredd (-^-) S* 

**~*~**

_ Thou was all that to me, love, _

_ For which my soul did pine-- _

_ A green isle in the sea, love, _

_ A fountain and a shrine, _

_ All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers, _

_ And all the flowers were mine. _

“To One in Paradise” by Edgar Allen Poe

**~*~**

Tooru dreams. There’s a garden and Hajime is there but when Tooru approaches him, he steps away. 

“Iwa-chan!” Tooru tries to shout but no matter how hard he tries no words leave his mouth and suddenly the flowers are falling from the trees and then the leaves and the wind is blowing and kicking up dirt and Tooru can’t see anything and when the gale finally calms the garden and Hajime and everything is gone and he’s on top of a mountain and the sun is blinding him and he can’t breath and he--

Wakes up, gasping for air. The only light comes from underneath his closed door, and when he pads over to the window and peeks through the blinds, the sky is pitch black, and the darkness blankets the streets, periodically punctured by dim lamps. His phone is dead, laying next to his pillow from when he fell asleep staring at his unanswered texts, so he plugs it in on his rickety little nightstand and waits until it lights up again before he puts his head back on his pillow and lets himself sleep again.

His dreams are disjointed now-- he’s running down a desert street. The air is stiflingly hot but he sees Hajime ahead of him and he  _ needs, needs, needs _ to catch up, to be next to him but all of a sudden Hajime disappears and Tooru knows it was just a mirrorage after all and then the whole dream dissolves and Tooru is out cold for the rest of the night.

He doesn’t remember the desert when he hauls himself out of bed, weighed down by a night of fitful sleep and the prospect of starting a whole new life on his own.

**~*~**

Tooru knows that Hajime doesn’t plan to play professionally. He sees the biology and chemistry textbooks, and their worn spines from long nights spent studying after practice. He sees the university letters Hajime saves scattered across his desk.

Tooru knows where he’s going once the first round of acceptance letters are released. It takes Hajime longer, as he waffles between a pre-med program in Tokyo and another in Miyagi.

Tooru tries not to prod, but he’s weak, and when Hajime asks him for input, he doesn’t even think about the school in Miyagi. At least the Tokyo school has an intramural volleyball club.

Despite the guilt snaking through his stomach when Hajime’s mother and Tooru’s parents tearfully send them off at the station, Tooru can’t help but feel a wave of relief wash through his chest knowing that Hajime will only be one hour away instead of four.

**~*~**

_ Ah, dream too bright to last! _

_ Ah, starry Hope! That didst arise _

_ But to be overcast! _

_ A voice from out the Future cries, _

_ “On! On!”--but o’er the Past _

_ (Dim hulf!) my spirit hovering lies _

_ Mute, motionless, aghast! _

  
  


**~*~**

His housemates are nice, he supposes. They’re all on the volleyball team. Two of them are from Tokyo, and they’ve already offered to show him and Sawamura-kun and Ushiwaka the best ramen shops in the area. Bokuto and Kuroo have clearly known each other for a while, and even Sawamura and Ushijima are acquainted with them from training camps and tournaments.The sting of being the only one in the group not to have competed on the national stage fades fast enough, but the aching loneliness of being an outsider buries itself in his gut, and like a seed soaking up water, it grows roots as Hajime’s silence continues and his roommates eat dinner together while he hides in his room and pretends to study.

That night, he dreams of fog. He thinks he sees Hajime but when he reaches out, he feels nothing, and the impression in the haze has disappeared.

**~*~**

The five of them-- Bokuto, Sawamura, Kuroo, Ushijima, and himself, of course-- walk to practice together. Four walk back to the apartment or stop at a ramen place, while Tooru stays behind to practice his serves. 

The first time it happens, Ushjiwaka pauses after the rest of the group piles through the door,

“Take care of yourself, Oikawa-san.” he grunts, repeating what Coach had said before he handed Tooru the keys. Tooru wants to snap back, to say something petty, but even a few weeks of sharing a bathroom with the bigger boy has done plenty to curb his ire and the white-hot frustration he usually feels when he looks at the spiker.

So Tooru says nothing, but he nods before he turns away and tosses his ball in the air. Hajime used to say the same thing when Tooru lingered after the rest of their teammates drained out of the clubroom. The thought hits Tooru with a pang, but he pushes it away in favor of hammering the ball over the net. It hits the ground with an echoing bang, and the sound reminds Tooru of a door slamming shut.

**~*~**

Monday 9:02 AM

You’ll never guess who I

ran into!

Tuesday 2:51 PM

Iwa-chaaaaaan

Thursday 11:30 PM

Are you ok????

**~*~**

Tooru dreams of the fog again. This time, there is nobody with him, but he soldiers on. When he breaks out of the mist he’s back on the mountain. There is no sign of life, just barren rock and patches of grimy snow. He’s above even the clouds here, and he can see the vast expanse of the cosmos unfurled over his head. He thinks:

The world is a lot bigger without Hajime by his side. 

His feet ache, and when he looks down, they’re blackened with frostbite.

He sits up groggily and scrubs his eyes. There’s a lamp on, and through the haze in his head, he realizes he’s on the lumpy couch in the living room. Someone has covered him with a blanket. His sockless feet stick out from underneath it like cypress knees stick out of water. He stares down at the brown knit pattern, and something deep in his chest loosens up the slightest bit.

He brings the blanket with him when he crawls into his own sheets.

**~*~**

There’s a strange cord of tension between them as Tooru helps Hajime unpack in his dorm. They’re both more quiet than usual. Tooru wants to say something, like  _ we’ll stick together like always _ or  _ you’re my best friend and I love you and I don’t know what I’m going to do without you _ , but he can’t work up the nerve to open his mouth.

In a flash of torn-open boxes and sheets extended like tapestries, they finish. They stand for a moment in Hajime’s new home, and then Tooru says “I’d better get going,” and Hajime says “Text me when you get to the dorm,” and then Tooru leaves and the door closes behind him harder than he means to and the echoing  _ bang _ that bounces down the hall and back rings with a note of finality.

**~*~**

_ For, alas! alas! with me _

_ The light of Life os o’er! _

_ No more--no more--no more-- _

_ (Such language holds the solemn sea _

_ To the sands upon the shore) _

_ Shall bloom the thunder-blasted tree, _

_ Or the stricken eagle soar! _

~*~

Tooru’s housemates are nice, but he’s still surprised by the short rap on his bedroom door while he studies at his desk. He sighs and peels his eyes away from the jumble of figures.

“Come in,” he says hoarsely, his voice raspy from disuse. Sawamura peaks in clutching a takeout box of steaming noodles.

“Wakatoshi-kun said you didn’t have dinner yet?” There’s a pause in which Tooru comes to terms with the fact that  _ Ushij-fucking-waka _ keeps track of whether or not he’s eating dinner before he gathers himself enough to grab the box and chopstick from his teammate.

“I didn’t know you wear glasses,” Sawamura observes as he releases the noodles. Tooru’s hand flies to his face at the reminder.

“Yeah,” he laughs awkwardly as he removes them. “My vision is pretty shitty, but I try to wear contacts most of the time.” He rubs his nose where the frames have left a red mark again. There’s another pause. Sawamura shifts on his feet.

“Well, we’re watching TV in the common area if you’re interested in joining us,” he tells Tooru. Tooru can see that he’s fishing for a way to get out of the conversation, so he says “Thanks, but I really need to study this…” He glances at his textbook. “Chemistry.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I hope you enjoy your movie though.”

“It’s actually a show we’ve been watching about-- you know, I’ll just let you study,” Sawamura beats a hasty retreat. “Enjoy your dinner.” When the door closes behind him with a click, Tooru leans back in his chair and rubs his eyes. The lights in his room blur together like the graphics on the pages in front of him. He’s tired of studying, and he wouldn’t mind watching a show with his roommates, but now that he’s declined, he’d feel awkward joining them. Besides, they probably don’t need him crowding in on their showtime. He’ll just go to bed.

That night, his dreams are fragmented, and he remembers nothing but the stark, bone-deep sense of isolation when he wakes again.

**~*~**

Weeks pass, and all of a sudden it seems, they’re all huddled together at the train station, waiting for the next train to deposit several valuable passengers-- three, to be exact. Bokuto-kun is practically vibrating, his cheeks flushed and his eyes shining. Kuroo-kun and Sawamura are faring a bit better, but Kuroo’s fingers tap patterns into his thighs, and Sawamura is about to chew through his bottom lip.

Finally, there’s a faint rumble, and Bokuto whirls around and grabs Tooru’s shoulders.

“He’s almost here!” he crows, and the sheer elation in his voice is enough to make Tooru smile through the green haze of envy clouding his vision, His phone feels like a brick in his pocket.

Sugawara-san is the first to step off the train when it slows to a stop with an agonizing screech, followed by two others, who Tooru recognizes as third-year setters Kozume Kenma and Akaashi Keiji. There’s a whirlwind of activity as greetings are exchanged (between the whole group, Tooru notes, because of course they all know each other too). 

He’s not really sure why he’s here; it’s not as if he’s waiting for anyone to come, much to the surprise of Sugawara-san, who asks when Iwaizumi is arriving. 

“Ah, he couldn’t make it,” Tooru says and tries very hard to smile like normal, but his face feels tight and there’s a dense little ball in the back of his throat and judging by the wrinkle between Bokuto-kun’s eyebrows he’s kind of failed. Because the little waver in his voice was clear enough for both Sawamura and Ushijima to break into frowns. Because the rest of the group is staring at him with a mix of pity and horror. Tooru can feel the heat crawling up the back of his neck.

“Let’s get something to eat,” Sugawara tries and finally, the spotlight is off of Tooru and his pathetic, hunched shoulders.

They end up at a sushi bar, and Tooru seats himself at the edge of the group, next to Kenma-san who immediately pulls out a gaming device and sneaks it under the edge of the bar. He’s quiet through dinner, and once he helps get the guests situated, he begs off the movie and withdraws to his room for the rest of the night.

He doesn’t dream.

**~*~**

Saturday 8:09 PM

yeah

**~*~**

Tooru wakes up to the notification from Hajime, which makes it ten times worse when he opens it to find a curt, single-word answer to a message from  _ weeks _ ago. The tidal wave of bitterness and misery that swells up in him chokes him up and confines him to his bed for a good portion of the day. 

Kuroo knocks on his door and invites him to visit the Skytree with the group at one point, but Tooru feigns a headache and is punished for his dishonesty with a real one when he wakes that evening to the front door slamming and a clamor of voices that increases in volume as the whole party packs into the apartment.

He rolls over and faces the wall and pulls the covers up to his ears. The door cracks open and a beam of light from the common area tracks its way across Tooru’s wall. He squeezes his eyes shut as his temples throb in tandem to the crescendos of the conversation outside, 

“Oikawa? It’s Bokuto. Are you feeling better?” Tooru curls in on himself. He’s too tired to talk to anyone, but a small, childish part of him wants someone-- Bokuto-- anyone--  _ Hajime _ , a traitorous voice whispers in his mind-- to stay with him.

“Okay, so it looks like you’re not feeling any better. Uh, we brought you some soup back? I’ll bring it in a bit since you’re probably sleeping right now. Which makes me wonder why I’m even talking to you? Okay, I’m going to let you sleep.” The door closes quietly behind him, and Tooru feels the tightness in his airways and the burning behind his eyes again before something in his chest snaps and he’s crying silently, alone in his bed with all the lights off and a group of people just outside his door.

**~*~**

Tooru hides in his room for as long as he can before he slinks out to surreptitiously steal some food from the kitchen. He’s rummaging through the cabinets for something other than shitty protein bars or popcorn when footsteps sound from another room and approach the kitchen. Tooru very deliberately does not stop searching for food, and when he finally remembers his soup from the night before and turns around, his face is carefully blank.

He knows exactly how awful he looks; there are dark circles underneath his red-rimmed eyes, and the stress of the past few days has caused pimples to erupt along his jawline. Tooru watches Akaashi’s eyes silently trace up and down his figure, from his disheveled hair to his stained sweatpants and back up to the glasses perilously perched on Tooru’s face.

“Oikawa-san,” he greets. “Do you know where the cups are?” Tooru silently points him to the cupboard. 

The quiet is deafening, and the discomfort hanging in the air between them only increases when Akaashi holds his glass to the tap and fills it. They both watch the water rush to the brim in silence before Akaashi turns and walks towards the exit. Before he leaves, he pauses and regards Tooru one last time.

“I hope you feel better, Oikawa-san,” he says blandly and ambles out of the kitchen.

The footsteps fade, and Tooru is alone again, utterly floored by the encounter and not knowing why. He stays in the kitchen to eat his soup, tremulously hoping someone else will also visit him.

Even when nobody else comes in, he still holds onto the tiny glow growing in his chest, and for the first time in a long while, he feels a little more alive than he did before.

**Author's Note:**

> Oikawa is an Angsty Teen and I will die before anyone takes this away from me. Fortunately for him, he's now on his way to becoming a Slightly Less Angsty Young Adult. Character growth!  
> Keep an eye out for the second half of this, and be sure to say hi in the comments or on my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/oikawasburks) or [Tumbr](https://oikawasburks.tumblr.com)!


End file.
